


Not Just Your Fight

by scamvnder



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: spoilers for dd season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 16:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scamvnder/pseuds/scamvnder
Summary: “Why are you bleeding?!” with Matt??





	Not Just Your Fight

“Why are you bleeding?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

Matt’s dismissive tone makes your blood boil. The man has no sense of self-preservation, but you’d think that being with you would have made him at least develop some sort of instinct for not throwing himself into dangerous situations head first like he’s the only one who can solve them. 

He had stumbled through your window, clutching his left shoulder. The white tux shirt he’s got on his doing nothing to stop or hide the bleeding. It’s ripped in multiple places, and sticking to his skin in others.His breathing is labored, and he winces every time he sucks in; certainly not nothing, and certainly not something he can just expect you to ignore. 

You follow him into your bathroom. This scene has happened so many times it feels like you’re watching it as an outsider. It’s some sort of nightmarish movie, and you end up predicting every move before it happens because you’ve seen it over, and over, and over again. He’ll stumble and grip the counter, then move on to shuffling through your medicine cabinet like he doesn’t know exactly where you keep your first aid kit already. 

“Matthew, stop it.”

Your harsh tone throws him, and checks him back into reality. Matt is complicated, but he isn’t cruel on purpose. Often time he forgets that he isn’t doing this alone anymore; that someone else has a stake in this, a stake in him and his well-being. He tries the best he can to shield you from most of it, but sometimes it slips through the cracks. You’re only trying to help him, and more often than not he needs to be reminded of that. 

It’s like you cut the wrong wire. 

“I couldn’t take him. He found someone to kill me. I was stupid enough to think that I had Fisk cornered.”

Your bathroom has suddenly turned into a mine-field and you’re not sure which step to take, which issue to tackle first. Whatever has happened tonight has Matt more shaken than you’ve ever seen him, but if you don’t do something now he’s going to bleed to death before he can begin to explain what he just said. 

“God damn it. I’m such an idiot.” 

“Matthew, I really need you to stop talking.” 

You hate dismissing him like this, but it’s clear he’s going to keep spiraling if you don’t intervene. He looks in your direction, but doesn’t do anything other than purse his lips. There’s an anger in his expression you’ve never seen before, teetering on despair. You want to reach out and smooth it away, but you don’t. Instead, you reach for his shirt and carefully peel it away from his skin. 

“I’m an idiot.” 

He’s been watching you stitch for the last five minutes, only occasionally grimacing, but otherwise quiet. You’re glad that he’s talking now that he’s calmed down. He has a horrible habit of keeping his feelings to himself until they explode. 

“No, you’re not. No one could have predicated what happened.” 

“I should have.” 

You’re not going to let him do this to himself again. A lot of good people died tonight, but it would have been so much worse if Matt hadn’t stepped in, and as much as he wants to blame himself for the actions of a crime-lord and his lapdog, you won’t let him. 

“Enough, Matt.” You sigh, smoothing out the bandage across his shoulder. “Karen and Foggy are alive because of you. You saved people’s lives tonight.” Sometimes you need to remind him of his wins, although they always seem bleak compared to the losses. 

“It was because of me they were even in that situation in the first place.” 

“Maybe you should just give up then, Matthew.” You’re bitter and it shows. Playing this game with him is tiring. Matt won’t ever give up, and you don’t expect him to, but sometimes he needs to realize how ridiculous he sounds. 

“This is my fight. Fisk is my problem.” 

You sigh and close the first aid kit, returning it to its place in your medicine cabinet. Far too burnt out to fight him on this, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek, and for a moment he looks remorseful. 

“It doesn’t have to be just your fight, Matt.”


End file.
